The Unravelling

Slaves to the wage of redemption Given the chance to destroy Deployed in a course of collision Colluding themselves to a fault Gullible flock of the mindless Barking their litany in form Spineless pawns of libation Yielding goblets of their own blood "I am but a mirror Of chaos and all it begets I am the serpent; hellbent On weaning you out of your clot" The invisible dust of hatred The ink that writes the plot Encoding the seeds of disaster Sowed in crops of naught The unravelling dark perpetual Where moral principles die Untamed by existence Where a miracle is to abide To unravel is not to lose control But to reclaim the steers of destiny To refuse bearing the load Of sacro sanctitude To bridge the gap between Delirium and lucidity To unravel is to embody contempt For an absent deity To withdraw, to unchain To blissfully scorn Shrouded in bleakness With bedlam as stitching The moon is contained In this solemn excision The hatred, the pain Restless oblivion Inertia comes creeping The all consuming comfort Wreaks havoc upon the heart Hollow spot in spirit and mind Through which the needles seam Unwavering threads conjoin the divide Reality patches of dream You can still hear them saying To never break the chain But you dared to look up Inundation of shadows That seep through the veil to raze The remains of shame At the stars you gazed Counter-flowing the stream of illations You used to graze And regurgitate The end of a talk that has never existed The end of a talk that has never existed